The curtains blocked out the harsh morning sun, allowing only a faint glow to seep into the room. The only disturbance came from the persistent ringing of the alarm clock shaped like a cute white rabbit, its chime breaking the peaceful silence.
Nestled beneath a thick blanket, Haneul stirred, his small form shifting as the noise finally pulled him from his slumber.
He scrunched his nose in protest, curling deeper into the warmth of his bed. But the ringing was persistent, and eventually, he peeked one sleepy eye open.
Blinking sleepily, he let out a small yawn and scanned the room, his vision still hazy from sleep.
The other side of the bed was empty.
His drowsiness faded instantly as he swung his legs over the edge and slipped his feet into his fluffy slippers.
Without bothering to fix his messy hair, he shuffled toward the door and stepped into the living room, his little hands rubbing at his eyes as he took in his surroundings.
The mess from the previous day had completely disappeared. No more open boxes or clothes littered the floor. The apartment was spotless, carrying the strong scent of disinfectant.
What once felt chaotic now resembled a cozy and welcoming home.
Haneul's eyes wandered around the room until they settled on a familiar figure in the kitchen. Jihoon stood by the stove, focused on preparing breakfast. The soft clatter of utensils and the gentle sizzle of food filled the air.
Noticing his little brother, Jihoon turned his head slightly, offering a cheerful smile.
"Good morning. Did you sleep well?"
Haneul nodded sluggishly, still too sleepy to respond with words, and instead waddled over to his brother, wrapping his small arms around his waist.
Jihoon let out a quiet chuckle, patting his back affectionately.
"Go brush your teeth first," he reminded, ruffling Haneul's hair before gently nudging him toward the bathroom.
The little boy pouted for a moment but listened obediently. He padded toward the bathroom, humming a tune as he went through his morning routine like a bigboy, determined to do everything properly.
Jihoon watched as he disappeared down the hall, then turned back to the pan, flipping the last of the rolled eggs before plating them.
It was a quiet Sunday morning, and for the first time in a while, he had taken a few days off from university as well as his part-time job.
The move had been exhausting, but at least everything was done before he had to return.
The boy returned after a while, his face slightly damp from washing up as he dragged a small towel across his cheeks. He climbed onto his chair at the dining table, grabbing his chopsticks and eagerly reaching for the food.
Jihoon sat across from him, watching as Haneul happily munched on his breakfast. His little legs swung beneath the table as he chewed. It wasn't long before the little boy noticed his brother carefully arranging snacks in a large basket.
"What's that for?" Haneul asked, leaning forward with curiosity.
"It's for the neighbors," Jihoon replied, taking a sip of his tea. "Since we're new here, we should go and say hello, right?"
Haneul grinned and hummed in agreement. "I want to go too! Let's go together after breakfast."
"Ofcourse."
The child beamed, his excitement bubbling over.
But just as he reached for another bite, his happiness suddenly crumbled.
Before Jihoon could react, fat tears welled up in his eyes, spilling down his cheeks.The chopsticks clattered against the plate as a quiet sob escaped him.
Jihoon's brows furrowed in confusion at his younger brother's sudden change in mood. "Haneul? What's wrong?"
The little boy sniffled, wiping his face with his sleeve. "You're going to leave me again…" His voice cracked as tears continued to stream down his round cheeks. "Just like before…"
Sorrowful cries filled the room as his small shoulders shook.
Jihoon's chest tightened, and he immediately moved closer, placing a comforting hand on Haneul's back. He understood what the little boy was referring to.
Thetimehehadleftforhismandatorymilitaryservice.
Back then, Haneul had been too young to understand why Jihoon had to leave. All he knew was that one day, his big brother was suddenly gone for months, leaving him behind in a place surrounded by people who didn't want him.
Spending more time together than usual reminded Haneul of the days before his big brother left, bringing back old memories.
Jihoon gently wiped the tears from his cheeks. "I'm not going anywhere," he reassured softly. "I promise."
Haneul whimpered, looking up at him with watery eyes. "Really?"
"Really." Jihoon smiled as he curled their pinkies together. "Pinky promise."
Haneul stared at their interlocked fingers for a moment before nodding, his cries finally fading away.
To cheer him up, Jihoon helped him change into a fresh outfit, making sure his shoes were properly fastened before they grabbed the basket and stepped outside.
They went from door to door, greeting neighbors and handing out neatly wrapped packages of rice cakes.
Most of the neighbors were kind and welcoming. They even complimented Haneul for being such a polite little helper, making him puff up with pride.
As they moved through the complex, Jihoon noticed the child's energy slowly fading. His once-bouncy steps grew sluggish, and his usual chatter quieted.
They had been walking for a while now, and it was clear he was getting tired.
Only their floor remained. Jihoon had planned to save it for last, figuring it would be easier to deliver the remaining rice cakes once they got back. This way, if they ran out of the snacks before reaching the top, they wouldn't have to make another trip.
The neighbors closest to them could always receive their share later after restocking.
And it was a good thing he stuck to that plan --only three packets were left.
Back at their apartment, Jihoon gathered more while glancing at his little brother. "You can rest here if you're tired," he offered.
But the boy shook his head firmly. "No, I'll go with you," he said, unwilling to let Jihoon go alone.
And so, they set off once more, distributing the snacks and greeting their neighbors.
Everything had gone smoothly, and soon, only one door remained.
Their next-door neighbor.
Jihoon pressed the doorbell, but no response came. That wasn't too unusual; some of the families they visited earlier had also been out.
He tried again.
"...…"
"Maybe they're not home," he murmured, looking down at his brother. "We can come back later."
Just as they were about to turn away, footsteps sounded from inside.
A moment later, the door unlocked with a soft clink and creaked open.